


Heirs

by Ambleon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Animal Abuse, Child Abuse, Dark, Gen, Muggle-born Pride, Mystery, Pureblood Culture, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3680577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambleon/pseuds/Ambleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Chamber of Secrets has been opened and all eyes are on first year Marvolo Morfin Gaunt, the official Heir of Slytherin. Will Marvolo take the fall for the recent slew of petrified muggleborns or is his long lost cousin, the seemingly perfect student who can do no wrong in the eyes of the staff and student body, the true culprit?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morfin's Heir

Marvolo didn't like his name. It never sounded right while tripping off of his tongue clumsily. He'd have preferred a plainer one like... Harvey or Harold, instead of being named after his Grandfather. A man that, as far as he could tell, never did anything with his life besides brag about their pure heritage and get carted off to Azkaban. Not that Marvolo would ever say as much aloud.

His own father had been imprisoned before he was born and rarely said a word about those times but would sometimes wake up screaming, often three or four times a night. Marvolo had learned to make himself scarce on the days following those nights. Instead of staying in he would wander through the dense woods outside of their shack, sometimes with a snake wrapped around his arm or neck, sometimes alone with a stick to poke at things or practice his waving with; always careful to avoid the Riddle's massive mansion.

It wasn't that he disliked the Riddle family personally. Only that his father would grow terribly mad if he caught Marvolo glancing in the way of the muggle lot. The memories that the supercilious neighbors dug up in the older wizard were harrowing for them both. For his father because it reminded him of the dementors, of Marvolo Senior's death, and his thief sister's betrayal. For himself because it brought out the darker side of his father. Marvolo was safe from Morfin Gaunt's wrath, but nothing else ever was. Even the snakes needed to slither away lest they be cut down the middle with a hex.

Today was one of those days. From where he sat on the branch of a large yew tree he watched as a handful of them slipped outside. Fleeing in different directions the snakes looked like Medusa. A muffled curse could be heard, followed by a tortured hiss. Marvolo grimaced, his dark eyes narrowing at the sound. Part of him was so used to his fathers outbursts of temper that the shrieking and pleas were stripped of their normal connotations- were just unpleasant noises filtering through his ears. The snake around his arm was not so unaffected though. It tightened it's hold around him and flicked out it's tongue, frightened that its own skin would be burned next.

 _"Is it me, or has he been angrier lately?"_ The serpent asked, it's movements tickling Marvolo's palm.

He looked down at the brown grass snake, watching it quiver, before he replied.

_"I think he's mad that I'm going to Hogwarts soon."_

Marvolo had been ecstatic when a brown owl came to him with the thick letter attached. His father had been less pleased. Obviously, the letter was expected. They were the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. His father did not want him boarding with mudbloods and traitors though, the thought disgusted the older wizard.

That had made it difficult for Marvolo to convince him that he should be allowed to go, but eventually he _had_ convince him.

There was something about the wizarding school that called to Marvolo. It went beyond being the descendent of a famous wizard that had helped found the school. He felt as though he was meant to, no, _needed_ to go to Hogwarts for some reason. Yet every time he asked himself why he drew a blank. He supposed half the reason was that he didn't want to end up like his father or namesake, secluded from the rest of the world, a mere shadow of who the great Salazar Slytherin was.

Marvolo wanted to travel the world. He wanted to be a part of the world. Though he couldn't put his finger on what it was that he wanted to do he sometimes felt as though he already knew. Deep down. Even though he'd never so much as stepped a toe over the old wards around their shack until last Saturday, when they visited Diagon Alley and he got his own wand: Yew, like the trees growing around their shack, eleven and a half inches, supple, with a unicorn's hair plucked from the mane of a stallion.

He could still feel the warm hum when he gripped it and remember the rush of wind picking up around him and the dark red sparks that shot from the tip when he first held it.

Maybe it was the influence of Salazar, who prized ambition, which led him to convincing his father that Hogwarts was where he needed to be. It was definitely one of the reasons he gave for wanting to go. He suspected it was really the influence of his mother, though, who was traveling the world even now and sent him letters with drawings of the magical objects she saw; who had gone to Hogwarts as a young girl herself and wrote about it a couple of times in the sparse letters she sent him, that was the real reason. Her life was full and rich. He begged her to take him with her, too, whenever she came home but she always refused.

His father would place one hand on his shoulder and whisper to him in Parseltongue.

_"When you're older. My Sheeuu."_

Parseltongue was the only language they used to speak to one another, even when Marvolo's mother was visiting his father preferred to let Marvolo do the talking. Without her, Marvolo knew he wouldn't have learned English, his father could barely speak it himself. His father usually called him Junior in the language of the snakes, which translated roughly to the word two, but sometimes he would call him Hatchling. Marvolo liked that name better, the soft little _Sheeuu_ sound soothing.

Resting the side of his forehead against the bark of the yew tree Marvolo closed his eyes. Carefully ignoring the mutters coming from the snake on his arm and the angry shouts of his father in the background that rose above the screaming. He hadn't slept well last night, jerking awake every time his father had a nightmare. Tiredness was starting too creep up on him, latching around his limbs like the snake resting on his arm.

With eyes closed he imagined white snakes wrapping around his limbs, warm and heavy. Heads snaking over his shoulders and pulling him closer to sleep...

Something was squeezed around his torso and right knee. The pressure painful.

A green light engulfed his field of vision.

 _"Junior? Junior? Wake up."_ A hiss came.

"Wh- what?" He murmured, blinking the sleep from his eyes hazily before realizing he'd had _that_ dream again.

Jolting awake, he frowned at the snake and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Marvolo was lucky he hadn't fallen from the tree. The sun was now setting, temperature dropping steadily. He could barely see the ground.

The shack had grown quiet again.

 _"How long was I sleeping?"_ He asked.

To him it had been only a moment. A second. Yet the sky was already getting darker.

 _"I went to asleep after he stopped."_ The snake replied. _"Go inside. It's cold."_

Marvolo was already climbing down. Once he was nearer to the dirt he leapt, letting his magic rise to slow his fall. He walked tiredly to the door of the shack, pulling it open and walking in. Paying no mind to the group of snakes that rushed past his ankles to get inside with him before he shut the door firmly behind him.

Warmth surrounded Marvolo.

He would miss his home terribly. His father sat in the large leather armchair beside the fireplace, eyes closed though Marvolo knew he wouldn't be asleep. Instead of disturbing him though Mavolo tugged off his boots, placing them in the shoe rack in the closet and made his way toward the kitchen. His father said that their home used to be only slightly smaller than the kitchen was before he married Marvolo's mother. When he was younger the thought of his father living in such squalor had astounded him. It had been hard to imagine the shack ever truly being a shack, as a child he had even laughed at their smug neighbors, who would never know that right beneath their noses lived a family of wizards with a home larger than their own.

He made two cups of hot cocoa and went to his father. Placing the mug beside the silent man and sitting down in front of the fireplace to warm up with the snakes. Few of them had names, as names were a human concept, but despite that Marvolo recognized each one by appearance and personality. Some were more volatile, though the truly dangerous had long since been killed or subdued by his father and none would harm him, some were nurturing, would cuddle with him more often than the rest and call him hatchling themselves, others had playful natures, that would come out when his father was away and they would ask Marvolo to tell them stories.

Now most of them came to lay next to him, a few sliding up to sleep in his lap. The only snake that rested with his father was the oldest mother. She was the only one that could ever get away with having a bit of bite and temper, though she never overstepped and got into trouble with his father somehow. Marvolo, and the other snakes, admired the wizened old snake for this feat. Marvolo turned to watch as his father pet the large snake down its back seemingly absently.

When he looked up at his fathers face he saw two dark eyes like his own staring down at him.

 _"Sheeuu, Sheeuu, you will be leaving home in two days time. Are you quite sure that school will be the right fit? I'm sure your mother will give you any book you desire, and I still have much to teach you of our family's history and magic."_ His father asked once more.

_"I'm sure, father."_

The man sighed angrily. Reaching over to grab the hot cup.

 _"You are eleven, and far too much of your mother's blood has influenced your way of thinking. The Lovegood's were always wanderer's..."_ He trailed off in thought as memories of his wife arose and Marvolo stayed quiet and still. When his father looked down at him again it was with something close to fondness.

_"I suppose I must allow a Lovegood to see the truth of the world themselves. At least you and your mother are a more sensible sort and don't believe in the imaginary creatures that mudbloods make up."_

Marvolo nodded dutifully, taking a sip from his drink. Deciding not to mention some of her more dubious letters.

_"My sister is a weak thing, we always thought she was a squib because of how close we live to the muggles... but you carry only the best traits of our family. I can trust you to not be seduced by any mudblood cur."_

Then his father stood up, placing the mother snake on the left-hand arm rest, and went to bed with the cup still in hand. Marvolo sighed as his father left. This was the last of several similar conversations with his father and he wasn't sure how to reassure the older wizard.

He turned to look into the fire, pensive.

 _"I'm safe because I wait."_ The old mother snake spoke suddenly. He looked up at her one good eye as it peered in his direction, her tongue flicked out at him.

 _"All my sisters and brothers are dead. Only I am alive, because I wait... Wait."_ The snake said gravely. When Marvolo nodded once, thoroughly confused by her declaration, she slumped down to the floor and waded away.

The other snakes chattered about him loudly. Pondering her words with fixation.

Marvolo soon tuned them out, his mind miles away as he imagined what Hogwarts would be like.


	2. Depart to Hogwarts

A girl with thick, curly, frizzy hair stood across from him with tears in her eyes.

"Harry."

 

 

With a start Marvolo jerked awake, eyes pinging open to stare at the pale ceiling of his bedroom. Light shown through the window, telling him that morning had arrived. He felt chills run up his arms and closed his eyes for a long moment.

Today was the day. He was going to Hogwarts. Time had creped by so slowly since he first got his letter that it felt like this day would never come. He flung the blankets off his body and ran from his bed to his closet in the blink of an eye, grin fit deliriously across his face. If someone had been watching him at the moment they might have wondered at the wild gleam in his eye but it was perfectly innocent as he grabbed out his robes for the day.  

 _"Careful."_  A snake hissed at him when he ran past it in the hallway on the way to the bathroom.

 _"Wake up my father."_ He said, ignoring the animals grumpy refusals.

He showered quickly, and soon enough was combing the snarls from his hair, his excitement still strong. He couldn't stop thinking about Hogwarts. What would the castle look like? What spell would he learn first? What would his first lesson be like?

He looked into the mirror at his dark eyes. They had a round shape to them like his mother's did. When he was younger his mother had cast a spell on them to keep them both facing straight, of the belief that if it could be done with magic it should be done. He couldn't remember them that way though. His hair was blond like all the Lovegood's, with a curl to the strands that came from his father's side, but his eyes were the same dark color that his father and grandfather had. He was lean and knew he would grow tall like his mother's side of the family, but he had the same thin shaped lips and straight nose of his father.

As he looked into the mirror he wondered how he would look in his green Slytherin tie. The thought of red tugged at Marvolo's mind and he frowned, there was no way he could possibly end up in Gryffindor house. Brushing the passing thought aside he dropped his comb onto the counter and finished dressing.

It was happening.

Soon enough Marvolo was running out of the bathroom, ready to grab his luggage and eat a quick breakfast. He came to a stop when he saw his father was looming in the middle of the hallway though.

 _"Father?"_ He asked.

Morfin was quiet for a long moment. Just staring at where his son stood.

 _"Today's the day."_ Morfin said, scowl in place, arms crossed.

He knew his father was taking things badly, dropping his smile Marvolo stepped forward hesitantly.

_"I'll send you letters everyday. It'll be like I never left."_

_"Owls. Bothersome creatures."_ Morfin muttered, shaking his head.

_"No. I wont let you go. You're a Slytherin. That means you stay here, untainted."_

Untrained, he meant.

_"You said-"_

_"No."_

Suddenly his father lurched forward. Took a hold of him by the scruff of his shirt collar and dragged him down the hallway into his bedroom. Marvolo was thrown into his bedroom, the sound of the door slamming ringing in his ears.

"No. No. No." Marvolo muttered to himself, and then kept muttering louder and louder as he ran over to his door and tried to open it.

The door was firmly locked. He banged on it. Screaming.

Marvolo didn't often get angry. Nothing really offended him, he was usually given exactly what he wanted. The thought of missing the train to Hogwarts made him see red though. He might have cursed his father in that moment he was so furious.

"Let me out. Father? Father, let me out." He screamed, until his voice became horse and sore.

His father only spoke to him once throughout all of Marvolo's ranting.

_"This is for the best. You'll thank me when you're old enough to see. The rest of the world is tainted by filth and traitors. It's no place for my son."_

Marvolo cried, sliding down to his knees as his hands still pressed against the wood. How would he get to Hogwarts now? How would he do anything in his life trapped here. For the first time he hated this place. Truly hated it. Knew deep in his belly that he wasn't supposed to be here.

His angry shouts slowly morphed into pleading and reason. Neither of which worked. He thought about his mother, how she would never have done this to him. She had been happy for him going to Hogwarts.

He backed away from the door. Wiping the tears off of his face with a sniff and glaring hatefully at the door. If his mother was here she would have taken him to the train and waved goodbye to him. But she was in Poland looking at underground magical ruins without him. He hissed unintelligibly at the door and turned to the letters from his mother that were scattered across his desk. The one he'd been looking at last night was folded open where he'd left it.

He lifted it from the table and looked at the line he had etched into his heart.

 

Hogwarts was my home away from home, as it is for many students. It makes me proud that you will be going. Study hard and become a great wizard, Marvolo.

  

Marvolo had every intention of doing that. Putting down the letter he marched over to his luggage. Dragging it over to the door. He would have gone out the window but the view was magic, the reality was that his room was underground and the only way out for him was through the door.

Glancing at his wristwatch he knew he only had an hour to escape before he missed the bus. He had to make it. He had to.

Knocking on the door Marvolo called gently for his father.

"Father, father. I'm sorry I was so angry. I don't hate you..."

No answer.

"Father, please, I've been thinking and I understand now why you don't want me to go to Hogwarts. If it means so much to you, then I won't go. I'll stay home and learn magic from you." Marvolo called.

Silence. Frowning, he leaned his head against the door. Trying to think of another way. His father had obviously left the hallway and was likely in the kitchen already, busy forgetting that he locked his son up in his room. Marvolo was hungry and angry, but he tried to clear his head of any distractions.

"He's gone back to sleep." A snake informed him hesitantly from the outside.

Anger coursed through him. He banged his hand against the door before taking a deep, soothing breath. Then he took his wand out. He'd read all of his books to prepare for school. The young wizard hadn't tried to cast a spell yet though. As it was he knew the exact spell that would unlock the door. So long as he was able to cast it. Grimacing nervously, Marvolo stared down at his wand. Rubbing his thumb up its spine and hoping that this would work.

The spell was one that would be taught closer to the end of the year, but he thought he understood the type of flick that was necessary. 

"Alohomora." 

The door rattled and spinsters shot from everywhere, and the door slowly fell open.

"Yes." Marvolo said.

Glee welled up in him and he grabbed a hold of his things. He raced quietly through the house to get his owl from the attic, then went to the shoe rack to shove his boots on hastily. The snakes hissed warnings at him and a few threatened to snitch which he kicked them gently for. He was inside the fireplace with a handful of floo powder ready to be thrown when he heard his father banging through the house, shouting his name. Marvolo saw the snakes swarming into the room before he caught sight of his fathers foot stepping into the room.

Before anything more could be done Marvolo tossed down the powder down and shouted out the first destination that came to mind. The rush of magic left him breathless and he found himself stumbling out into the Leaky Cauldron. Falling on his face in the process with a painful thud. He didn't think. Just took his things and raced over to the doorway that led to the muggle world. Sure that his father would be following right behind him.  

He ran blindly down the street as quickly as he could with his luggage, hushing his new owl sharply as it shrieked and flapped its wings. He slipped down the ally. He didn't hear his fathers heavy steps behind him. Only the shouts of a few muggles that told him to watch where he was going.

When he came out of the alley it was empty. Marvolo raised his wand. Willing the Knight Bus to come quickly. There was the shrill noise followed by honking. Marvolo nearly topped over as the bus wheezed to a stop in front of him.  

"King's Cross Station, please." He said immediately, fishing the change from his pockets quickly to hand it over shakily.

"Hogwarts, is it?"

Marvolo felt like snapping at the unnecessary question. He simply nodded. Wishing they would move faster. He didn't look back but felt a prickly shiver march its way up his neck at the thought of what he was doing. The excitement that Marvolo had felt when he woke up paled in comparison to the anxiety he felt now. As he slipped into his seat and ducked down so that even his head wouldn't peak over the window he reminded himself about his mothers letter again. Taking comfort from that. When he made it to Hogwarts he would send her a letter explaining everything. She would be able to help him cool his fathers fury.

In the end he was distracted from his worries when the bus jerked forward. Most of the time he spent trying to soothe his cranky owl and keep his luggage from crashing all over the place. When it did come to a stop he nearly did fall over. Only his tight hold on the bar keeping him steady. The entire time the older woman sitting beside him calmly holding her hat in place with one hand and her purse in her lap with the other pestered him with tales of her own years at Hogwarts.

"Thank you." He said when they came to a stop.

His face must have looked queasy because he was actually helped in getting his luggage out. He barely noticed the parting wave or declarations of congratulations on his first year at Hogwarts. All of it was background noise as he made his way to his platform. His mother had mentioned having to run through a wall, thankfully, and getting to his train wasn't as difficult as he feared it might be once he arrived.

The train was a sharp red color that brought Marvolo to a stand still once he spotted it. It was as if he had seen the train before and good memories welled up in him at the sight, but the truth was that he had never seen anything like it before. It was already quite full of students and their parents hugging them goodbye.

He found that the most difficult part was getting his luggage onto the train. His bird, entirely fed up at this point, kept trying to bite his fingers through her cage. Marvolo wished he could speak bird, then he would have been able to threaten her into silence or explain why the morning had been so hectic. As it was he found himself doing that anyway. Not that she listened to him. Making a horribly loud nuisance of herself.

"I know, I know. This isn't how I thought this morning would go either, alright? If you hush I'll let you out of your cage and you can fly to Hogwarts if you'd like." He bargained, thinking it would be nice to not have to deal with her while on the train, "So be quiet- Ow!"

He ripped his left hand away, glaring at the reddened skin. Nearly dropping the cage in the process. The owl puffed up its feathers haughtily. Marvolo's chest heaved as a sneer spread over his features. He wished he hadn't picked the owl because of its snow white color. The dower looking black one in the next cage over had had a calmer disposition. This one was a menace.

Eventually he managed to get his things onto the train. He did end up letting his owl out of the cage when he'd seated himself, half hoping she wouldn't come back. She'd dived at his head rudely and then swooped out of the window.

"Good riddance."

Marvolo sunk into his seat, exhausted. Not paying much attention to the other students in his compartment past the initial introductions. As the train began to move he couldn't feel much in the way of cheer as he peeked through his window to look at the hoards of parents waving to their children. His own father couldn't be seen at all. If Morfin was there he would have been making an unruly spectacle of himself though, so Marvolo could only guess that he'd given up and went back home for the time being.

 

 

The castle was the most beautiful place that Marvolo had ever seen. A sense of pride filled him as he imagined his ancestors part in constructing it. Even knowing that Salazar had left it in the end, that didn't detract from it's haunting beauty. Seeing it now, Marvolo felt sure in his decision and as he waited for his name to be called out by the sorting hat he stared at the ceiling in awe. Like many of the other first years the magic fascinated him.

He could feel it thrumming through the air.

"Gaunt, Marvolo." Professor Dumbledore called his name.

Nervous anticipation whelled up inside of him as he moved forward. Taking a seat on the stool with forced calm. His toes didn't even reach the floor and he could see the entire student body watching him before the hat slipped over his eyes like a blindfold. Could practically hear his mind humming silently in anticipation as he willed himself to sit still and wait. It only took a brief moment for the hat to speak up, directly into his head. 

"Oh ho! What is this? Another Slytherin has come to study at Hogwarts, and from the main branch, too. Here's quiet a lot of courage I see, although lacking in loyalty somewhat. A thirst to learn as strong as any Ravenclaw's. But knowledge for knowledge's sake doesn't peek your interests, eh? No. Ambition drives your desires. And the magic brimming inside of you... I know just what to do with you. SLYTHERIN!" 


	3. Everyone

Marvolo goes over to the rest of the first year Slytherin's feeling pleased despite having the eyes of so many watching his movements. He'd realized recently that he didn't like crowds of people. Being at the center of the entire schools attention, even for a short while, was slightly uncomfortable. He supposed it was because of how unused to others he was. Aside from his trip to Diagon Alley Marvolo had never been around so many witches and wizards. Being sorted into Slytherin was a comfort to him but it didn't stop the feeling of eyes watching him. It had been easier in Diagon Alley to get over the crowds when he could slip through them without being seen, watching his father's billowing cloak as the man cut harshly through the wizards and witches ahead of them. The loud clapping all but pounded against Marvolo's ears as he went over to the Slytherin table.

He kept himself relatively relaxed, posture straight, only because of the sporadic lessons that (Ravenclaw that she was) his mother had give him whenever she visited. It made it easier for him to focus. A few of the first years that were already there looked nervous. Most of them tried to put on reserved expressions that emulated the older Slytherins surrounding them, though they couldn't quite hide their awe and excitement. Their eyes, looking at every new thing brightly, gave away what they were feeling.

Marvolo tried to imitate the older students as well. He only faltered at the last second, when he saw a face that was so familiar he could remember exactly where he had last seen it. Yesterday. He'd been standing near the edge of the woods, underneath one of the yew trees with a hand against its trunk. The man had been riding on a powerful black horse, wearing an exhilarated look on his face that Marvolo had found  _strange_ , compared to the mans typically disdainful glares and tense demeanor.

The composed expression on the students face, the one that took in all details, was familiar to a startling degree. Mr. Riddle's face was hard to forget, even when the man was hateful he looked handsome. Marvolo had been a little scared of the man when he was little, but there was also something mysterious about the muggle that had seduced his aunt away from the family. Love was it's own kind of magic, wasn't it? One that Marvolo had always been slightly fascinated by.   

Marvolo knew at once that the older student was a Riddle and if he was a Riddle then he must have been a Gaunt. Aunt Merope's son. Marvolo couldn't pinpoint the exact age that his cousin was supposed to be or figure out how he was a wizard against all odds, but he knew he was right. He wanted to point at the teenager from across the table and tell him that he knew who he was. After that, Marvolo wasn't sure what he would say. He realized as he stared, then forced himself to sit down, that he didn't even know his cousins name. His father had never learned it. Maybe this wasn't the same child. After all this was a wizard. It couldn't be his Aunt Merope's son because Mr. Riddle was a muggle. Marvolo's gaze lingered, while the other boy stared back with inscrutable dark eyes from down the long table. He felt at once that he was being seen _through._ Had his Aunt Merope told her son about the family? Then, the boy looked at the next student being sorted and the connection was broken.

Marvolo felt out of sorts throughout the rest of the sorting. He forced himself to stay composed. Trying to focus on the other first years and clap for them all instead of the older student seated directly at the center of the long table, facing the rest school with his back to the wall. Marvolo couldn't help sneaking looks at the other boy, who hadn't glanced back at him again after they'd first locked eyes. A few times he found himself thinking of things to say or questions to ask. He went through the stories his father had told him about his sister. Most of them were made up of angry yelling. Disgust mingled with something like jealousy, unable to comprehend why she might have picked a muggle over her own family.

His father had always said that he would kill his sister if she ever came back to them. He said it so often that Marvolo wondered if it was really true. Secretly, very secretly, he found that he could understand his aunt. Her longing to leave their property and see the world for herself was something that Marvolo had wished he could do since before he could remember. It only grew the longer he stayed. When loneliness crept up on him. At times his longing was so strong it made him afraid, afraid that he would become a traitor too and be completely alone in the world. But it seemed Aunt Merope wasn't alone. She had a son, who had a prefect badge attached to his uniform. Who went to Hogwarts. For the first time Marvolo wanted to talk to her. Figure out her side of the story... and maybe he could. 

A small voice in his mind warned him not to. It sounded like the snakes telling him to not make his father angry. Hissing at him with sharp rebuke.  _Don't you dare._ It was the same voice that had said he shouldn't go to Hogwarts. Sitting here, at this school with the sky filled with stars, made the hiss quieter though. Almost nonexistent. Maybe he would approach him. Actually, maybe he _should._

When the last first year was sorted a feast appeared on the tables and conversation picked up quickly, becoming a loud hum of sounds as friends greeted one another with warmth and enthusiasm. Despite the large number of new students most of the first years in Slytherin were already at least acquainted. The only ones that had no previous connections, aside from Marvolo himself, were three half blood students and a single muggleborn. Marvolo noticed that they started to introduce themselves to each other but weren't spoken to by the others.

The rest were purebloods and they immediately began congratulating each other on their new house. It was like they were speaking their own language, and although Marvolo watched there was no opening at any point to introduce himself. It became obvious once the talking had started up that even where he sat, with two of the half blood students on his right, the muggleborn to his left, and one half blood seated across from him, that they had all assumed he wasn't a pureblood. Marvolo was a little surprised by how many half bloods there were. It left him with the odd choice of not talking to anyone at all or only talking to the half blood and muggleborn students.

It wasn't something he knew how to deal with and he quietly observed everyone at first. The purebloods were completely closed off at the moment. It left Marvolo with the half bloods and muggleborn but he wasn't sure that he was _supposed_ to talk to them, even though on some level he had known that Hogwarts was open to students of all backgrounds. Marvolo hadn't fully realized what it would mean. Sitting next to them or possibly talking to them hadn't crossed his mind when the thought of learning magic at Hogwarts castle had been so tempting. The way his father spoke, Marvolo had always thought that it was rare that a child be born with magic if one of their parents was a muggle. Now he wished he had given the situation more thought.

The half bloods introduced themselves first, and focused more on their wizarding heritage, the recent achievements of their wizarding family, as they talked about themselves. Most of the wizarding names were recognizable to him. Slywen and Keitch. He noticed that the three of them were more reserved than the other first years. None of them had attempted to talk to the purebloods. Perhaps their wizarding relatives had warned them against it although the muggleborn also hadn't spoken or been spoken to, probably because of how far down the table he was seated. The half bloods hadn't spoken to Marvolo either, yet, but once the last one had introduced themselves they turned to him politely too.

For a second he wanted to turn away from them. It was only the thought of sitting through the rest of the feast in silence that made him stop.

His father would have been furious to see him talking to them. It would have made Marvolo shiver to think of how much trouble he would be in, if he'd been at home.

"Hello, what's your name? Tell us about yourself." Emilie Keitch asked.

She sounded... friendly. They seemed to be much better talkers then the snakes at his home. Marvolo was slightly surprised. The most experience he had with talking to muggles had been when the Riddle's yelled at him angrily to get away from their property and such if they sighted him. He'd half expected the half bloods to be the same. Just as stern. Just as cold.    

"Marvolo Gaunt." He introduced himself, and then like the others he gave a brief history that told them who his parents were. "My father's side of the family decided to... part from the wizarding world some generations ago," Marvolo said carefully. He decided not to go into the specific reasons for that given the company. "There hasn't been much activity there. My mother's name is Belladonna Lovegood. Her side of the family have gone to Hogwarts almost since it's conception. For the most part as Ravenclaw students. After hearing so many stories about her schooldays I decided I must go myself."

They looked taken aback by his answer. Sitting straighter in their seats.

"Well, that's good." Keitch said, exchanging a look with the others and biting her lip.

"You're a pureblood then?" Woodrow Slywen asked.

"Oh yes." 

Marvolo thought they looked more reserved as they watched him now, even though they hadn't stopped smiling. Slywen glanced down that table to where the other pureblood students were seated, they didn't seem to have heard him. Too busy talking amongst themselves.

"After a few generations we didn't keep in touch with many other families." None at all, to tell the truth. Marvolo's parents had only met because his mother's research of the Peverell's had led her to the Gaunt's. They had met, and the rest was history.

Marvolo smiled fondly at the memory, and then stopped himself. He knew that he had his mothers smile. It always looked a little dreamy and vacant. Not the impression he wanted to give, really. He appeared much more serious when he wasn't smiling in that way.    

The three half bloods stared at him in silence for a moment before responding.

"I think I've heard of the name Lovegood. A journalist, I think?" Keitch ventured.

Marvolo nodded.

"That would be my Uncle. Xenophilius. He's quite new to the work but making a name for himself. A little eccentric from what I've read, but he's a gifted writer."

They looked like they wanted to ask him more questions but turned to the last student, the muggleborn, to ask them about them too.

"I'm Mark Johnson. My dads a doctor. My mom stays at home, I have two brothers but I'm the only one with magic. We weren't that surprised to find out I was a wizard, it explained a lot of the things that happened around me while I was growing up."

Marvolo wanted to ask him what a doctor was but held back. He couldn't imagine being the only one with magic in his family, or having brothers, or a mother that stayed at home. His own magic had never surprised him. He'd always had at least a little control over the direction it took. Even when he was angry, he felt it and controlled it. He couldn't remember that last time that he had done true accidental magic, but he listened as the others talked about their own experiences. Was it normal for half bloods to lack so much control?

Johnson talked about the time he'd accidentally fallen from a tree. Instead of hitting the ground and breaking his arm like a muggle would have (Marvolo shuddered at the thought of being so vulnerable to injury) he'd floated above the ground for ten seconds and was able to get a hold of the tree again. One of his brothers had been there and tried to get him to do it again. Their mother had called them in for lunch though just in time, fortunately putting a stop to things before they went too far.

Keitch sheepishly said that she'd gotten angry at her teacher once, who had scolded her for not turning in an assignment. She'd ended up giving them a sunburn even though it was a cloudy, rainy day.

Slywin said that he'd gotten lost once when it was late and started glowing in the middle of the street. His parent had found him hiding in a park slide later so that no muggles would see him that way but he'd had to stay home from school the next day because he couldn't stop himself from glowing. The first year grinned proudly at that and the others laughed.

Lastly, Flora Carter, mentioned that even on the coldest days her magic would keep her warm without her even thinking about it. Marvolo was intrigued by that show of magic. He had to think consciously about warming himself with his magic, his father wasn't good at warming charms or charms in general, but Marvolo could usually only warm himself in sections when he tried. Either his feet would be warm or his hands or his head. He could never quiet figure out how to distribute the warmth evenly.

"What about you, Gaunt?" Johnson asked.

Marvolo thought about it. He couldn't remember when his magic stopped being accidental and became intentional.

He could only do small things, of course. Slowing his body when he jumped from a tree. Numbing the pain some of the snakes felt when they were hurt, something he'd learned to do through trial and error, which was easier now although it had been difficult at first. Marvolo didn't know many incantations or techniques, the books he'd read had given him many new ideas for ways to apply magic, but it had always seemed natural to use magic when he'd grown up watching the way his parents used their magic, for everything from turning on the lights to making food. It was hard to imagine a moment in particular when anything he tried to do stood out to him.

"Sometimes I practice floating things to me," Marvolo said at last, thinking about one of the first charms he'd read from his textbook. It had made him smile to realized the incantation 'wingardium leviosa' would help him do it easier. "Whatever's there. Heavier things are more difficult to lift. I've gotten better at it though."

"That's first year stuff. I read about it in the second chapter of our charms textbook." Carter said.  

"Have you read all of the books yet?" Slywin asked everyone, a frown of dismay on his face.

"No way. Reading is a pain. Just looking at the books makes me tired." Keitch sighed.

"Well, I read them." Carter said softly.

"I've read all the first chapters." Johnson said.

Marvolo had read through all of his books in anticipation. It wasn't as though he had anything else to do.

"I read them myself... What do you think your favorite subjects will be?" Marvolo asked, he had been wondering this himself as he read through the textbooks. He couldn't decide on one subject that interested him the most.     

The flow of the conversation was easier after that. Marvolo always remembered that they weren't purebloods, he could imagine what his father might have said about the situation, but he didn't feel affronted while he talked to them. They never glowered at him like the Riddle's would, nor did they do any of the number of things his father said they would because of their muggle heritage.

Marvolo wondered if life outside the property lines of the Gaunt's had truly changed so much. Some of the words that Johnson used (and in truth a few of the subjects that the half bloods mentioned about the current wizarding world, not that he asked for clarification) went over his head. But for the most part they talked about school, a subject that he had read about and pestered his family on extensively. Eventually Marvolo had felt it was safe enough to ask Johnson what a doctor was. It had shocked him that muggles had a profession similar to that of a healer, though when he asked how they did it he felt a little disturbed by the notion of surgery and didn't understand how the medications muggles used weren't magical if they effected people to such a degree. Johnson, for his part, appeared happy to be in the know about something after having asked so many questions about the wizarding world himself. Although he hadn't known enough to explain how muggle healing was done in detail.

Marvolo ended up forgetting about the pureblood first years and the prefect that could be his cousin. There was a moment when Marvolo noticed that they had stopped speaking quite so lowly and the other first years had unconsciously started speaking louder to make up for it. Their laughter booming enough to draw attention from the older years so they'd quieted themselves, although they'd taken the moment pepper the older students with questions about Hogwarts. The group Marvolo was with settled down also, unable to stop themselves from eavesdropping a little to listen to the advice that was dished out.

When they went to the dungeons, the Slytherin common room, Marvolo went surrounded by the group half bloods. He still wasn't sure what to do about that as he watched the pack of pureblooded students, the ones that he should have been with. He hadn't minded talking to the half bloods or muggleborn. But didn't it make him a traitor to talk to them? He pursed his lips for a moment before shaking off the thought. He'd already spoken to the half bloods and Johnson. There was no use in feeling discontented now.

"So the Gaunt's are an Ancient and Nobel House?" Carter asked.

"We aren't considered an Ancient and Nobel House anymore, no. We destroyed our original mansion when we removed ourselves from the wizarding world, but one of the conditions in the marriage contract my parents made, for me to have the last name Gaunt instead of Lovegood, was that my father at least renew the old status of the Gaunts so that we were the House of Gaunt again. It wasn't difficult to complete the paperwork at Gringotts, our family still kept very strict lineage records."  

He kept his voice as low as they made their way down that hall but he could feel a shift in atmosphere. Some of the purebloods overhearing them. The louder conversation of the first years petered off as they took notice of Marvolo and the sudden silence was noticed by everyone.

"The Gaunt's disappeared ages ago." One of the pureblooded first years said, turning towards them.

"Five generations back." Marvolo agreed.

"The Gaunt's- that means you're a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, does it not?" It wasn't really a question. The boys expression was entirely all too knowing as Marvolo turned to face him.

"I am."

Marvolo couldn't quite stop his smiled, he gave a quick nod to slightly hide it as he stopped his lips from quirking up. It felt good to be recognized. In that moment he realized that it was something that he had been hoping for all along. He had been worried that no one would remember the Gaunt's, their legacy. That the name would already be forgotten by all. That wasn't the case though. The handsome boy that stood before him with long black hair and dark eyes was watching him with recognition and curiosity.      

"I'm Cygnus Black." The boy said, holding out his hand in a rather regal way.  

After that the other pureblood first years were more inclusive. Marvolo was so relived that he didn't notice that the three half bloods and muggleborn had stopped talking to him altogether or that the older students, one group of older students in particular, were watching him keenly. They looked at their leader, some curious and a few mutinous. No, Marvolo had little idea of the effect his mere presence had on his first day at Hogwarts. 

 

The common room was as fascinating as the rest of the Hogwarts. From its elegant furnishings, dressed in shades of calming green and silver, to the large windows that peered out into the lake. The dark and dreary dungeon common room was not at all what it first seemed, and Marvolo's bed which was farthest from the door was near the largest window in the first year dormitory. He sat on the large window sill that was like a seat when everyone else had gone to sleep, watching the glowing nocturnal fishes swim in the distance. It was soothing. The entire common room was surprisingly peaceful and comfortable. The canopy on his bed a rich, dark green that blocked out any light, but from within had been made to glow like stars if given the command.    

Salazar Slytherin had been a powerful wizard, had gone to great lengths in his studies of magic. Marvolo's earliest memories had stories about Salazar and his blood. The grandiosity of his family had dwindled, in recent generations the Gaunt's greatest gesture had been to hide themselves away in protest. The stories were smaller. Less well-known. But it seemed they weren't so unknown that their name had become entirely obscured in some circles. It was a strange kind of relief. One that was only slightly dampened by the way many of their eyes had gained a gleam to them when he told them that he was a parselmouth, one that Marvolo recognized in his own parents looks when they talked about the long history of the Gaunt family. It always gave Marvolo the impression of dragons hoarding treasures, wanting treasures, when he saw those expressions. The other looks he received were worse though, skeptical and judging.

 _Tom Riddle_  , and it was obvious that he was Marvolo's cousin now, was introduced with the rest of the prefects. Marvolo went back to watching the other Slytherin. He was filled with questions that would have to wait. What was Merope's side of the story? Where had she gone? Why did Riddle hate her if he married her?

For some reason instead of the headboy doing the majority of the talking Tom Riddle took over after the introductions were complete, as if he was the headboy even though he was a fifth year. Marvolo hadn't listened well. Too busy making comparisons. There was something entirely charismatic about his cousin. He captured his audiences attentions and Marvolo could sense the magic that brimmed in him. Stronger than Morfin Gaunt. Stronger than Belladonna Lovegood. For some reason Marvolo felt as though he had to talk to Tom Riddle, that it was... important that he do so. That was the only thing that Marvolo needed to know in order to approach the older boy. The only question was when, and how, he should go about it.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not getting to Tom Riddle and Marvolo Gaunt speaking to one another in this chapter. The feast ended up being longer than I expected, much longer. What I'd originally planned had to be bumped back. 
> 
> To clarify, as far as the accidental magic conversation went, I wasn't trying to show that muggleborns or half bloods have weaker control over their magic when compared to purebloods but that Marvolo has an exceptional control over his own for his age. Marvolo has lived a sheltered life though so he doesn't realize what is and isn't average. He assumes that he's the norm for a pureblood child. He also assumes that half bloods and muggleborns are weaker magically too. He'll realize as the story goes on that this isn't the case, but for now he's ignorant in more ways than he realizes.


	4. Father's Blessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to mention before the story goes any further that I haven't been accurate about dates. For example, Minerva McGonagall wasn't a seventh year when Tom Riddle was a fifth year, but I wanted her in the story so I've forsaken some canon for the sake of fun. I tried to avoid characters born in the Marauders era, but otherwise took creative liberty. I also tried to create a lot of side characters. Not all of them are important, but I wanted to go with the idea that many families died out during of the Wizarding War. Many muggleborns and halfbloods and purebloods disappeared, so I thought I would add a few pureblooded families that Harry would have never heard about while at Hogwarts to give that impression. Basically, don't fall in love with any of them. The likelihood of bad, bad things happening to everyone is high.
> 
> Tom Riddle's history I tried to keep accurate though. Anything wrong about his past is my mistake, though Marvolo is going to be changing the way certain events play out from here on.

He was hugging someone tightly. It was jarring, strange, but he also felt warmed. As if he was remembering a sensation, the diluted echo of it. It almost felt familiar. He didn't want to release the woman that he was hugging no matter what. He should have wanted to push her away, the thought that he didn't know why he was hugging her nagged at him from far away. Somehow, that thought felt wrong and distant, as though it wasn't him thinking it even though it was. The person, his friend, was holding him back just as tightly. Drowning out his unfathomable thoughts. She was saying something to him but he didn't hear it. Her voice was teary. His own chest swelled painfully, like he might also cry soon. Her frizzy hair tickled his face, distracting him.

Something was happening. It was _time._ He wasn't sure what it was time for. He was leaving, and it was time to go, and he didn't want to release his friend now but it was _time._

"...Harry..."

Why did that name sound... No, no, that wasn't right. Suddenly he wanted to tense in that hold. To jerk away from the _stranger that was holding him._ Something wasn't right. That wasn't his name. His name was - his name was -

 

 

 

Marvolo awoke with a jerk. Disoriented as he stared up at twinkling stars instead of the pale ceiling of his bedroom. Instead of silence he could hear the sound of footsteps and groggy morning greetings, the shuffling and rustling of school supplies. Marvolo closed his eyes, swallowing slowly as he rubbed at the sleep in his eyes. He could feel a headache blooming. For a moment Marvolo tried to remember what he'd been dreaming of. It didn't come back to him though.

Yawning and stretching, in spite of the headache Marvolo found himself grinning. It had been hard for him to fall asleep last night. Every time he shut his eyes he would think of a new question to ask his cousin or another spell that he wanted to learn from the professors of the school, his anticipation rising higher with each thought. Now, morning had arrived at last. Not wanting to wait a second longer Marvolo schooled his thrilled smile and sat up in his bed, sliding open the curtains to take in the rest of the room.

A few sleepy 'good mornings' followed as the others noticed he was awake too. Marvolo knew that the sheer amount of people would take some getting used to. He decided that he lucky though, there were more female than male first year Slytherin's this year. He was already struggling with the concept of sharing his living space with the five other boys in his year, he couldn't imagine dealing with even one more.  

Cygnus Black, who's bed stood across from Marvolo's own, was apparently still sleeping. His curtain closed tightly. Woodrow Slywen was sitting at his vanity with a vexed expression as he bit at his bottom lip. Struggling to comb his hair, which was surprisingly a complete disaster compared to the sleeked back and pristine way it had been styled yesterday. He wasn't the only one grooming frantically, though. The only student that didn't take much time and went for a more natural look was Mark Johnson. He brushed his hair quickly, leaving it wet, and threw on his uniform in record time. Breezing through his morning routine faster than anyone else.

Marvolo hadn't ever thought of his own hair or appearance much. He watched the early morning commotion thoughtfully. His hair was manageable when he bothered to wash it. Sometimes, like his own father, he would go days without cleaning himself. He hadn't planned to bathe today either, seeing as he'd done it yesterday, but watching the careful way his soon to be classmates readied themselves and the way Apollo Delacroix sent Mark Johnson a frown for his slightly less put together appearance, turning to whisper into Pierce Bullstrode's ear, Marvolo decided it would be best to take out his towel.

He grabbed his wristwatch off the of the short vanity beside his bed. It was only six fifteen and breakfast ended at nine thirty, classes started at ten. He still had plenty of time to get ready if he hurried. Marvolo slipped out of the room and down the hallway in silence, the other boys too preoccupied to give him more than passing nods. The floor was cold against his bare feet but he warmed them with magic as he made his way towards the communal bathroom. There had been a brief tour given last night, and while Marvolo had been surprised by many curling and twisting pathways he'd made sure to remember where the bathroom and the common room were. Everything else he could figure out later.

Marvolo had been relieved when the communal bathing quarters were not only spotless but gorgeous. Like the rest of the castle, work had gone into every detail. While the bathroom shared by the first, second, and third year students was not as large or luxurious as the one for the older years it was still beautiful. Marvolo thought his own home was elaborate but it didn't hold a candle to Hogwarts. Everything about Hogwarts showed the immense detail and magic that went into its creation and that included the communal shower room, from the faucets that looked like sparkling silver snakes that opened their sharp fanged mouths to pour out water when turned on to the painted ceiling where mermaids darted mischievously in greenish blue waters, playing in the depths of a dark shipwreck and singing - their voices creating a soothing, constant melody that echoed throughout the bathroom - with predatory smiles and beckoning eyes.

The castle was a labor of love. It couldn't have been anything else to the four that created it, and for the first time Marvolo felt pity for his great ancestor. To have given up something like Hogwarts when so much had gone into its creation. But then, turning ones back on the very foundations of their beliefs would have been the greater shame. The greatest cowardice. Seeing Hogwarts in person, Marvolo felt a swell of admiration for Salazar Slytherin. His ancestor had been strong willed to not be tempted. Marvolo was energized by the need to learn how to do what the founders had with their magic. He felt so far behind. Somehow, that only thrilled him more.    

Marvolo was finished with his shower, straitening his tie in one of the large windows, when Cygnus Black rushed in with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"Ah, morning Gaunt. How goes it?" Black greeted absently, rushing behind a shower curtain before Marvolo could consider responding.

Marvolo couldn't help the way his lips quivered, fighting to smile, at the odd sight. Black had looked much more composed yesterday. Well spoken when he asked questions and not nearly as tired seeming as the others, even by the end of the tour. Apparently that alertness hadn't carried over into the morning. Marvolo looked back at the mirror when it called him a handsome young man, but told him to brush his "pretty blond locks". The mirrors at his own home were not so opinionated.

Marvolo ducked his head when a straggling, sleepy-eyed, third year came out of the shower with a towel around his round waist to stand in front of the mirror with a toothbrush. Marvolo took his things and headed back to the first year dormitory, wondering about that toothbrush and brushes and gels that all the students had been using. His father had always said, with a yellow-toothed sneer, that hygiene  _tools_  were for muggles. That a real wizard or witch used magic for everything and, while Marvolo had squinted at his father with open suspicion, he hadn't argued in the end because his mother had decided that it was a good idea too.

When Marvolo had struggled using his magic to clean himself it had been one of the things his mother had been adamant that he learn to do, and she'd sat down with him and walked him through it over and over, not letting him clean up no matter how many days dragged on until he figured out how to do it with his magic. Marvolo had hated her a little for it but when he'd finally did it the pride of both his parents had more than made up for the discomfort.

The sight of purebloods using muggle tools, enchanted or not, without a thought was strange to him. Marvolo himself didn't know the first thing about them. Besides showering or bathing he cleaned himself fully with magic, and in a pinch he could probably slowly clean himself without a shower though it would have been tiring.

Walking down the hallways Marvolo suddenly came to a full stop when he felt his cousins magic reach him before he turned the last corner that would lead to his room. It was and wasn't astonishing every time he felt the fifth years magic. On the one hand he knew that the half blood shouldn't be powerful enough to have that kind of a magical presence. On the other hand, the Gaunt's  _were_ of the Slytherin line. That much concentrated black and unmixed magic wouldn't be completely ruined by one bad match, although that didn't explain why his cousins magic was so much heavier than Morfin's. 

Marvolo had been carefully planned by his parents. They had taken some risk in combining Lovegood - light magic through and through - with Gaunt. While the Slytherin's, the Gaunt's, had been stretching the limits of the dark arts for centuries the Lovegood's had nurtured an affinity towards magical creatures, unicorns in particular, and fertility charms. They practiced, experimented with light magic in ways few families had attempted or were capable of. The Lovegood's and the Gaunt's were opposites. Marvolo's conception was an experiment in and of itself. A mix, straight down the middle, of light and dark magic at their peak. Marvolo doesn't know what his mother did to stabilize the lines, only knows that every step had been carefully planned out so that he would have a strong affinity for both light and dark magic if all went well. It should have backfired. At several points his mother had been sure that she would miscarry, it had not been an easy pregnancy for her. But Marvolo had survived somehow.   

There shouldn't have been anything that Aunt Merope could do to enhance the dark magic that would have been diluted by having a muggle father. And yet Marvolo felt it down to his bones. The strength of the dark energy his cousin basked in.  

Marvolo reached one of his hands out to run his fingertips along the smooth stone wall as he turned the corner. Tom Riddle's attention was already focused on him when he came into view. Had he noticed Marvolo's magic as well?

Marvolo paused as he looked at Tom Riddle, curiosity building as he stared up. The fifth year was dressed and presentable already. There wasn't a wrinkle on his uniform or a hair out of place. His black dress shoes gleamed without a scratch on them. A simple brown book bag hung from his shoulder, the golden clasp secured, with nothing sticking out of it. Marvolo had never seen anyone so put together. Well, he hadn't had much experience with people to begin with, but for some reason he spotted the perfection immediately on his cousin and it stood out.

Marvolo's head tilted to the side as his eyes darted up and down. Looking closer he realized that neither the book bag, the shoes, or the uniform were new like he'd first thought. They were worn, yet well-maintained. Marvolo looked up then and noticed that the fifth year was taking in his appearance as well while he was distracted. On instinct he brought his hand away from the wall, awkwardly tightening his hold on his pajamas and bathing supplies with his other hand, to brush it through his hair and use his magic to at least dry the wet strands at once. The way that Riddle's eyes tracked the movement reminded Marvolo of the snakes back home when they hunted, waiting for the right moment to strike. They could wait for a very long time. Marvolo wished that he'd groomed himself in the bathroom before. He had been planning to fix his hair and everything when he got back to the vanity by his bed, like the other first years, but it wasn't as though he could put his first meeting with his cousin on hold for that reason. He felt inexplicably cornered for some reason at the thought and wrapped both of his arms more securely around his belongings.  

Whereas before Marvolo had been eager to track down his cousin now he wished that he'd had more time to plan. For a moment he hesitated in the middle of the hallway, distracted by the others magic, but then he remembered his plan. It wasn't a fleshed out course of action since he'd thrown it together while on the verge of sleep, but Marvolo was good at making plans on short notice and still somehow making them work. Getting onto the train to Hogwarts was only the latest example, so Marvolo decided to go through with his first idea. It still seemed like the best way to learn if it was or wasn't worth it to talk to his half blood cousin. He didn't  _think_ he would be disappointed, not when his cousins magic felt so potent, but he knew how his father would act if they couldn't pass this one test.

 _"Cousin."_  Marvolo hissed, watchful as he waited.

To his relief, and hidden excitement, he needn't have worried that his cousin wouldn't know paresltongue. The reply came immediately, the telltale sounds of soft and lisping hisses filling the air between them.  

_"You know me?"_

Marvolo smiled, enthused by the words. Not stepping closer but standing straighter as he looked into dark eyes that matched his own. The color of their eyes were truly the only similarity between them in appearance, besides that Tom Riddle looked exactly like his namesake. His eye color wasn't even that different. A different shade of brown though in the same shape. Soon, Marvolo knew the other boy would grow taller and then one really wouldn't be able to tell Mr. Riddle and Cousin Tom apart. Rather amused by the name 'Cousin Tom' Marvolo nodded absentmindedly to answer the question.

 _"I knew you would be able to speak like me. I knew it from the moment I saw you."_ Marvolo said.

After he spoke he hesitated though, shaking his head as he rethought what the fifth year had asked him.

_"I don't know you. I didn't know I had a cousin until I saw you, heard your name. Felt your magic. Aunt Merope must have left when she found out she was pregnant, and no wonder, Father wanted to kill-"_

Marvolo's eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. He shut his mouth as fast as he could. If he hadn't already been holding his dirty pajamas he would have been tempted to cover his mouth with his hands. He would never get to meet his aunt if he kept talking about all the ways his father had thought of murdering her. It was a long and gruesome list of ways.

_"I mean... no matter how you spin it the match wasn't... but look at you! Aunt Merope must have realized Mr. Riddle would be a good match for her magic and decided to try it when Father and Grandfather weren't around. Mother says that sometimes things that seem crazy have a way of turning out right in the end."_

Marvolo was babbling a little. He couldn't help it as he started to put together what had happened long ago before his parents had even met yet. He had only ever heard Morfin's side of the story but the way his cousins magic felt told a different story. His cousins expression was serene when he spoke. 

_"Halfblood... I always suspected... and it doesn't bother you, Cousin, to be related to me by blood?"_

Those words halted Marvolo's speculations. The words... suspected... had his aunt not told him about Tom Riddle? Marvolo knew that the muggle and his aunt must have had a terrible falling out at some point for Mr. Riddle to harbor so much ill will towards her remaining relatives, but whatever happened between them was a complete mystery to him. He thought over his cousins question. He knew that it would have bothered his father immensely to be so closely related to someone of lesser blood. Yet, his father had always said he was a little too much like his mother, and she would have been too curious about Tom Riddle's (too) powerful magic to leave it alone. Marvolo looked at his cousin thoughtfully before finally replying, not really sure that he was making the right choice even as he spoke.  

 _"... Power is most important, right?"_   

Tom Riddle stepped forward and Marvolo had to raise his head to look the other in the eyes still.  

"I think we'll get along well little cousin, don't you?" Then Tom Riddle smiled down at him, and he looked nothing like Mr. Riddle but even more handsome, and pat his head. "If you have any questions come to me. I would like to get to know my long lost cousin better." It wasn't a question but Marvolo agreed. 

 

 

As Marvolo headed to breakfast with Cygnus Black on one side and Druella Rosier, and Pansy Prince on the other he couldn't stop thinking of his encounter with his cousin, when he asked about the prefect Cygnus and Rosier had known about him. They had family that met Tom Riddle and the Slytherin prefect was very popular even to those outside their house. They didn't seem to know of his relation to the Gaunt's or Slytherin himself though and Marvolo wondered about that privately. Did Cousin Tom want to make a name for himself under his own merits, not connected to his heritage?

Marvolo sat down with his classmates and went over the schedules they'd been handed. The man that called himself Professor Slughorn had welcomed them very enthusiastically, especially Cygnus who he'd met as a child once or twice through business with his father and who he seemed very sure would go far in life with the right help. That help, presumably, being Professor Slughorn. Marvolo tuned out the conversation after awhile and started to fill his plate with eggs, bacon, and anything else that looked appetizing. To top it off he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.      

Eventually Professor Slughorn moved onto other students and Cygnus filled up his plate as well. Marvolo hadn't thought that he would like being surrounded by other students as he tried to eat but there was something strangely comforting about the clamor of the hall, as if he'd visited this place in a dream once.

Everything was going well and Marvolo found himself excitedly talking about what classes would be next when his fathers huge brown owl suddenly swooped down onto the table. The other students leaned back in surprise as it shoved aside food with a glare and ruffling of its feathers. Marvolo sighed as it stuck out its leg, razor sharp talons flexing as if it was thinking of clawing him. It stared him down with a regal glint even though it's feathers were messed and dirty. Marvolo always thought its personality was much like his fathers. Volatile and opinionated. That was probably why it had lived such a long life up to this point.    

The Howler should have been expected. Marvolo stared at it as his schoolmates from older years whispered to themselves and sneaked glances at the letter curiously. His new classmates stared with wide eyes filled with surprise. 

He prepared himself mentally, frustrated that he had to wake up to this on his first day of school, then ripped the simmering letter open before it could break apart by itself and scream at him. His father's sharp, ragged parseltongue immediately lashed out at him from the middle of the table. The letter rising higher and higher as it picked up volume, although parseltongue in itself was a quiet language Marvolo could hear everyone from all of the houses stop eating to stare at the hissing letter in shock.   

 _"MARVOLO MORFIN GAUNT I AM ASHAMED OF YOU. I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE NOT TO GO TO THAT TRAITOROUS, FILTH INFESTED PLACE AND YOU DELIBERATLY DISOBEYED YOUR FATHER'S RULE. WHEN YOU GET HOME THERE WILL BE NO MERCY FROM MY WRATH. DO YOU HEAR ME? BY STEPPING FOOT IN THAT MUDBLOOD RIDDEN SCHOOL YOU HAVE TURNED YOUR BACK UPON YOUR OWN BLOOD. DO YOU EVEN REALIZE THE DEPTHS OF YOUR MISTAKE? YOUR FOREFATHER'S WOULD BE DISGUSTED BY YOUR TRAITOROUS ACTIONS. NO SLYTERIN WITH ANY HONOR WOULD HAVE EVEN CONSIDER DOING WHAT YOU DID YESTERDAY AND TRUST MY WORDS, WHEN YOU GET HOME YOU WILL BE SHOWN THE ERROR OF YOUR WAYS IN FULL. DON'T EVEN THINK THAT YOUR MOTHER CAN HELP YOU SLIP OUT OF RETRIBUTION AFTER THE DISGRACE YOU HAVE BROUGHT UPON THIS FAMILY. YOU ARE FORTUNATE THAT I DO NOT DISOWN YOU WHERE YOU STAND FOR SULLYING THE GAUNT NAME. I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU. DO YOU WANT TO ABANDON THIS FAMILY LIKE YOUR MUGGLE LOVING AUNT? YOU FOOLISH CHILD. IF YOU ARE TO BE THE HEIR YOU MUST PUT ASIDE YOUR CHILDISH WHIMS. IF YOU HAD ANY SENSE YOU WOULD RETURN HOME BEFORE MAKING ANY MORE REGRETTABLE MISTAKES"_  His father's coughed loudly then, taking deep and ragged breaths that seemed to fill the entire hall it was so quiet. "... YET _EVEN I CAN SEE THAT THE AMBITION OF OUR FAMILY COMBINED WITH LOVEGOOD STUPIDITY HAS BLINDED YOU TO THE TRUTH. YOU FOOLISH CHILD WHAT DID I DO TO BE CURSED WITH AN UNGRATEFUL SON SUCH AS YOU? BUT YOU WILL LEARN. THIS MISTAKE WILL BE YOUR TEACHER. YOU WILL SEE. BY THE END OF THE YEAR. YOU WILL SEE."_

Then the letter incinerated and a large bag was dropped onto the table, from which a snake broke free from and immediately surged forward to bite at Marvolo's face. He turned away but it still managed to sink its fangs into the bony side of his chin, drawing blood. It stung more than anything but screams broke out from everywhere around him at the sight. All things considered, though, the letter had been more understanding than he might have hoped. But still, setting one of the snakes on him? The mere thought of it brought an embarrassed flush to his face.  

Marvolo took a hold of the creature and ripped it off him. He almost considered killing it right there, smacking its head against the table, even as the snake began to plead nervously the harder he held onto it. He took a calming breath though. He could hardly kill the animal for following his fathers orders, but if he didn't punish it then he thought he would be seen as weak when he went home. It was obvious that Marvolo was already in his father's bad books. He didn't want to face that with the snakes seeing him as an easy target too. In the end Marvolo grabbed hold of a glass of water that was close to him and dumped it over the snakes hissing face, it chocked and wiggled, and then he dropped it straight back into the bag it came from. Closing it shut and shaking it enough to disorient but not to seriously injure it.

All of this he did in silence. It was only as he started shaking the bag that he addressed the snake.

 _"You dare to bite me? Tell me why I shouldn't skin you alive?_  


End file.
